Last night, Red Deer Alberta was graced with the presence of The Royals. I had high hopes when we walked into the club (it was so pretty) but when soundchecking we were a bit… Uhhhhhh.
Basically the whole club was kind of shaped like a pyramid, so the whole thing was really reverby and echoey.. kind of like playing in a water tower haha. I mean, it still sounded good and whatever, but it’s just one of those little things that compile to frustrate.. especially when you get the wrong decks, and the monitors are booming bass, cant hear your vocals… but whaaaatever. We still killed it, even when all of a sudden the music cut out during Freak Like Me, Breeze carried the beatboxing, I laid down my rap over it, and a mishmash of edity 808 sounds that were being spontaneously exorcised from the DJ booth. Hey, get the gear wrong, get the sound wrong…ish.
The crowd was right into it from the moment we came onstage, but we did have a little issue with basically NO security having any idea where they were supposed to put us when we arrived. They “hid” us beside the soundbooth – basically one meter off stage left – CAMOFLAGE! – and eventually dropped us in an empty pool hall next door for about 15 minutes. Eventually they got it together to give us this raised booth next to the stage (um, it’s raised and full of our rider. Do the math.) They did get me my veggie slices, though, so I am entirely and most sincerely indebted.
Back at the hotel, I was wrestling with the reliability of my former on-tour love – the Ramada chain. With so much love at the first Telly, I couldn’t help but be a bit dismayed with the lack of 14 pillows and the disconnect between the lobby’s aura of elegance and opulence (chandelier, oil paintings of majestic swans) and the dynamic shift to Hick-Meth-Addict-Chic as I hit the elevator to gorgeously handpainted signs everywhere, laminated, taped to the wall reading “LIGHT SWITCH”. “MAKE-UP-REMOVER TOWELETTE”. Like, I wasn’t going to go ahead and put two and two together on that whole turning-on-the-lights thing, and was likely going to eat the towlette. Thank god for signs!
As I left the hotel to go to the show, I passed a man in the lobby (who had a striking resemblance to Kyle Gass from Tenacious D) COMPLETELY NOT WEARING SHOES OR SOCKS, leaning on the desk chatting up the night manager (who was eating it up, lemme tell you). So I suppose there is a constant need for signage in the Red Deer Ramada. How about signs like “STOP! Go back to your room and make yourself less disgusting!” “Do not pass GO, do not collect pogey, DO, on the other hand, puchase any and all ill-fitting clothing from The Beer Store!” As a dedicated follower of fashion, I feel like I’ve been to the trenches, Loyals.
En route now to Fort McMurray, which everyone has told me to be a little afraid of.. Not quite sure what to expect, but I figure when you hit up a stage rapping in no pants, they’ll pretty much be ok with it. We’ve basically lost all our voices so I’m communicating Stephen Hawking style, soon to be so exhausted I will only converse in Braille. Three days off after this show, with the exception of an interview I have to do for Halifax on Friday. (so I’m sure I’ll sound just tranny-licious)